


Found Love Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be

by louissass



Category: BBC Radio 1 RPF, One Direction (Band)
Genre: (a lil bit) - Freeform, Alcohol, Angst, Butt Dialing, Dogs, Domestic, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/louissass/pseuds/louissass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>“Are you trying to tell us that you fancy Louis?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Louis isn’t really sure he’s ready for the answer to that question, not when he’s so close to coming, not when he’s eavesdropping on a fucking private conversation, not on a boring sunday evening where he’s got no one to console him. Probably not ever, to be honest. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop listening.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, I guess I am.”</em>
</p><p>Or, Louis hates Nick and Nick hates Louis right back. Except no one hates anyone, not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Found Love Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [meth_breath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meth_breath/gifts).



> hello helo!!!!
> 
> this is my first ever tomlinshaw fic so please bare with and let me down easy if it's total shit
> 
> to the prompter: i hope this is okay and kind of what you were looking for. i know you asked for a lot more smut but it didn't really seem to fit anywhere, so i'm definitely planning to extend this and add a TONNE of smut to it :)
> 
> thanks to jo for helping me finish and giving me loads of cute headcanons and basically just putting up with me when i was being difficult. also thanks to the mod for being supperr patient with me when i was anything but helpful. i love u both <3
> 
> anyway, hope you enjoy!!!
> 
> {title is from i found by amber run, thanks reem for the suggestion}

Louis hates Sundays.

Mainly because Sunday is the day where nothing happens. He rarely has to work on Sunday's, the postman doesn’t come, none of the good TV shows are on, he’s not up to going out after the partying which inevitably occurred the night before, and he most likely has a hangover. So yeah, Sunday’s are shit.

This particular Sunday, however, is worse than all the others. None of his stupid friends want to hang out, having already booked the day up with other activities, not even his stupid band mates. Liam is off gallivanting with Sophia somewhere, Niall’s playing some sport Louis isn’t in the slightest bit interested in, and Zayn is off somewhere doing whatever it is Zayn does these days. Louis doesn’t really know, they haven’t caught up in a while. Harry is the only one who was actually free today, but apparently he decided to visit his good old pal Nick Grimshaw instead of his actual best friend. Whatever, Louis doesn’t even care.

He’s only minding his own business, watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S re-runs and eating coco pops, when he gets the notification from Twitter. A notification that Harry has tweeted. More specifically, Louis finds out as he clicks on the pop up, that Harry has tweeted a photo captioned ‘Just lads being lads’. A picture of he and Nick watching Celebrity Juice with a bowl of popcorn, red wine, and one of Nick’s friends painting their toenails. Louis only reckons it’s Nick’s friend because he knows all of Harry’s friends and he doesn’t recognise the (quite obviously) dyed-red-haired woman. Again, Louis doesn’t care.

 _Nice nails_ , he texts Harry, just because Louis’ a dick and likes to tease him. It’s obviously not because he’s jealous about Harry getting pampered with someone other than Louis. It’s not like getting pampered together was _Their Thing_ , just a thing they sometimes did together.

Harry’s reply is almost instantaneous. _Thanks, was thinking on going for fuschia, but Nick said it didn’t go with my skin tone,_ with a few emojis attached that Louis can’t be bothered to decipher.

They text back and forth for about an hour, Harry rather forcefully informing Louis that he’s wearing puce, and Louis informing Harry right back that the mere sound of the word puce makes him want to rip out his intestines. It’s fun though, definitely occupies Louis’ time for a while, and it almost makes him miss Harry even more than he already was. Definitely not jealous, though. Harry can hang out with whoever he wants.

It does become a bit annoying when Harry starts to text him funny things that Nick or Aimee (as Louis later finds out is the toe-painter’s name) have said, and within two hours of the picture being posted, Louis is about ready to carve _Fuck Off_ on his stomach and tweet it with the caption: “@grimmers :)”. That’s when he receives the phone call.

“What can I do for you, H?” He asks, somewhat cheerfully. Louis hasn’t spoken to anyone all day, alright, he’s getting cabin fever.

The response he gets, however, isn’t the chirpy _“well actually, Louis, I need you to-”_ he was expecting, it’s not even Harry who responds. It’s the muffled voice of the aforementioned toe-painter, describing something it takes Louis a bit of squinting (it’s a reflex, okay?) and controlled breathing to hear. “–with a beard and broad shoulders and, yeah. Just a nice, muscular, hairy man, I guess.”

“In the gay world, we call that a Bear,” Nick chirps in smugly, which causes Louis to roll his eyes. Just the sound of his voice makes Louis want to punch him in the face.

“Wouldn’t you know,” She responds with a laugh.

“Well actually–”

“Nick doesn’t like hairy men, do you?” Harry cuts him off, a hint of humour in his voice. Louis can only assume he’s smirking like crazy and flashing those dreamy dimples right now. “You much prefer a blond model with his shirt off.”

“Don’t project your feelings on to other people, Harold, that’s not nice,” Nick retorts with a laugh, which makes Louis scowl, because only _he_ is allowed to call Harry Harold.

“Name one blond model I’ve ever fancied,”

“Chris Hemsworth, for a start–”

Harry chuckles and makes a buzzer sound, “Not a model, also married. Try again.”

“Jamie Dornen–”

“Not even blond. C’mon, man, you’re slacking here.”

Louis smiles when it becomes clear that Nick doesn’t know. Louis does in fact know who Harry is referring to, because he’s a good friend and listens when his pal is talking to him about important things, such as hot male models. He almost says it, but remembers just in time that he is actually eavesdropping on a pocket call – which, by the way, why didn’t Louis hang up immediately? – and that might get him found out.

“Well anyway, my point is that blond models aren’t my type,” Nick replies eventually, Harry and Aimee laughing at his terrible attempt to steer the conversation away from the fact that Nick is a very bad friend.

“You’re obviously dying to tell us then,” Aimee says with a giggle after a while, “What’s your type?”

“Well,” He says, shuffling around in what Louis imagines is an attempt to get more comfortable in the uncomfortable situation, “They have to be younger than me. Smaller also. I do love a man with brown hair, blue eyes, and a toned body. Not ripped, just toned.”

“So you want a twinky boyfriend?” Harry teases

It’s his sudden interruption that brings Louis to his senses, and it’s then he realises that he’s been casually playing with his dick while listening to Nick fucking Grimshaw describe his ideal man. It’s gotten past the point of no return, though, and as Louis becomes more and more aware of how aroused he actually is, the desire to stop depletes. So he doesn’t stop, just continues tugging on his cock as Nick, obviously heavily embarrassed, brushes off Harry’s comment.

“We aren’t in a porno, you idiot,” He scoffs, “I don’t want a twink per say, they’ve got to have a personality as well. Oh, and they’ve got to have a good sense of humour, got to keep up with me intellectually, y’know?”

“So you want someone who looks like a twink, but isn’t actually a twink?” Harry questions. “A fake twink? An artificial twink?”

“Why on Earth do I bother with you?” Nick sighs melodramatically, making Louis roll his eyes and blurt out precome at the same time. Not that Nick being melodramatic is attractive, it’s just a coincidence. “Can you just let me finish?”

Harry giggles his stupidly cute, boyish giggle, and Louis can imagine his eyes are sparkling slightly when he speaks next. “Sorry, sorry, do continue.”

“I’d want him to let me take care of him, none of this ‘fighting for control’ bullshit, but I’d also want him to be able to stand on his own two feet. Independence and self-sufficiency are so sexy, has anyone ever told you that?” Nick pauses, assumingly to give Aimee or Harry a chance to confirm or deny. Louis bites his lip and grips harder at his dick, hoping that by wanking faster, Nick will continue talking faster as well.

“I want someone who will let me worship them, because they’ll probably deserve it.” Nick continues. Louis’ eyes clench tightly as he bucks into his fist, his orgasm rapidly approaching. “I want someone who can banter with me, someone who will do whatever I ask them to, but also isn’t afraid to voice his opinions.”

“Are you done?” Aimee asks after a beat of silence.

Louis moans quietly, his hole clenching around air. “Almost,” he whispers.

“Yeah I’m done.” Nick says. Louis holds his breath, knows he’s panting pretty loudly as he approaches his orgasm and doesn’t particularly want to be found out. That would be worse than embarrassing.

Another short silence, and then Harry’s speaking up again, his slow, confused voice making it’s way into Louis’ ears. “You do realise you basically just described Louis?”

Louis’ hips stutter and his eyes fly open, because– what? Why on earth would Nick describe Louis as his type? Nick hates Louis, and Louis hates him right back (only fair, really). The only thing keeping Louis sane right now is that it was a joke, or an accident. Yeah, Nick didn’t mean to describe Louis– in fact he didn’t, Harry just reads too much into things.

“I am well aware, thank you.”

Well, there goes that idea.

“Louis? As in, Louis Tomlinson?” Aimee asks, almost as if she can’t believe her ears. At least Louis isn’t the only one having a hard time believing it.

“Yes, Aims, _that_ Louis.”

Before he even realises what’s happening, Louis is wanking to images of Nick fucking him, Nick sucking him off, Nick cuddling him close to his chest, Nick just _being there_ , and he doesn’t really want to think about what that means.

“Are you trying to tell us that you fancy Louis?”

Louis isn’t really sure he’s ready for the answer to that question, not when he’s so close to coming, not when he’s eavesdropping on a fucking private conversation, not on a boring sunday evening where he’s got no one to console him. Probably not ever, to be honest. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop listening.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

Louis comes, moaning loudly. He tries to tell himself that it was just a coincidence, that he came directly after Nick admitted fancying him, but the fact that he even has to convince himself of that in the first place tells him there’s no truth to it. Louis rubs his hand over his face, momentarily forgetting about the come on his hand and smearing it all over his skin.

“Oh for fuck sake,” He groans, wiping his hand on his t-shirt.

“Did you guys hear that?” Nick asks suddenly. Louis stops breathing. “Sounded like it was coming from your direction, Haz.”

Louis doesn’t even wait to hear Harry’s response, just hangs up the phone and throws it to the other side of the room, in the hopes that the further away the offending item is from him, the more he can forget what just happened. But he can’t forget, try as he might. Nick fancies him, and he just got off to that very idea, which means there’s a very high possibility that he fancies Nick, as well. Louis has to accept that.

That doesn’t mean he’s going to, however.

***

The problem is, Harry knows about the phone conversation. Louis knows that Harry knows, and he thinks Harry probably knows that he knows as well, which only makes it more complicated. Especially since they’re supposed to be working right now, meaning he has absolutely no escape from Harry and his stupid pointed looks.

Niall’s talking guitars with Dan somewhere, left about half an hour ago, so it’s just Louis, Liam and Harry sitting in the dressing room, all half dressed and not talking to each other. Liam’s on the phone to his girlfriend, Harry is texting people, and Louis is pretending to be on Twitter. Well, he _is_ on Twitter, just not going through his mentions like the boys probably think, rather stalking Grimshaw via Radio 1 and Nick update accounts. Not that he has a thing for Nick, he’s just suddenly very intrigued by what the man is doing.

Suddenly, Harry bursts out laughing, “Guys, you’ll never guess what Nick just sent me–”

“No one cares, Harry,” Louis snaps, quickly exiting out of Twitter just in case either man decide to look over.

“Just because you hate him doesn’t mean Liam does. He wants to hear what Nick said, don’t you, Li?” Harry replies steadily. There’s a tone to his voice when he says _hate_ that indicates that he knows how Louis really feels about Nick. Which is ridiculous, because Louis himself doesn’t know how he feels about Nick.

“Actually, mate I’m kinda on the phone–”

“Yeah Harold, don’t interrupt the man he’s courting his girlfriend.” Louis snaps, only somewhat playfully. He contemplates sticking his tongue out, but decides against it quickly.

“He can’t court her if they’re already dating, idiot,” Harry huffs. “He already did that,”

Liam gets up and presses his phone to his shoulder. “Yeah I’m gonna go somewhere else. Leave you two to sort out–” he points between the two men sitting on the sofa, “whatever it is that’s going on.”

This is bad, this is very bad. Liam can’t leave, then Louis and Harry will be on their own and Harry will bring up the phone call. At this point Louis can’t tell if he wants him to or– _no_ , he definitely doesn’t want Harry to bring that up.

“So, about last week,” Harry says brightly as soon as the door shuts. Bloody hell, that was quick!

Louis decides the smartest thing to do would be to feign nonchalance, even though he’s secretly freaking the fuck out, and gives a one sided shrug, fiddling with the case on his phone. “What about last week?”

“Oh, y’know, just a conversation I had with Nick,” Harry continues, a small smirk on his lips telling Louis that Harry knows exactly what he’s doing. Fuck. He powers on nonetheless and sticks out his right hand for Harry to shake.

“Hi my name’s Louis Tomlinson, I do believe we’ve met before,” He says, laughing when Harry cautiously takes his hand and grips it tightly. “I think you’ve got me confused with someone else.”

“Ah, but I haven’t,” He grins.

Louis gulps. “No?”

“No.”

Neither of them speak. Louis doesn’t really know what to say. Harry’s got this smug look on his face, knowing that he’s caught Louis out, and it’s a little bit unsettling. Louis isn’t used to being caught out like that. No, he’s used to taking everyone for a ride, using humour to cover up his vulnerabilities, making himself the centre of attention by focusing all of his attention on someone else. He isn’t used to being touchy-feely with someone, which is exactly what Harry is wanting right now, he can tell.

It kind of figures it’d be Harry that asked this of him first, though. They are the closest in the band, have practically been attached at the hip since they met at the x factor boot camp, and they’re going through the closeting together as well. They have a lot in common, and the fact that they aren’t allowed to be publically friends has only made their friendship closer in private. Harry has told Louis all his deepest darkest secrets, and Louis has told Harry (most of) his. But this… This isn’t something Louis is ready to talk about. Not yet.

“Well I’m going to go find Lottie and… yeah,” Louis says, standing up from the sofa and practically pegging it to the door, “Bye!”

“I know what you heard, Louis,” Harry shouts after him, thankfully deciding against following him out, “And I know what I heard, too.”

Louis is so fucked.

***

“That was One Direction’s new single; Drag Me Down,” Nick Grimshaw’s voice bleeds through Louis’ radio and into his room. He groans loudly, deciding it’s far too early to be listening to this humongous twat – bloody two am. “It’s quite a good song that, innit?”

“Yeah it… it’s growing on me,” Fiona replies. Louis only vaguely registers that they’re talking about _their_ song, more focused on not falling back to sleep. He only went to bed about two hours ago, and he desperately he was back there right now, but he has to be awake.

“I watched the, um, the music video came out Friday, didn’t it? So I watched that yesterday,” Louis gets the impression that Nick was going to continue talking, but Fiona interrupts him. Which, rude. Louis kind of wants to defend Nick’s honour.

“Yeah and what did you think of it?” She asks, not even giving Nick time to answer before she’s giving her own opinion that no one asked for, “I didn’t get it. The space thing.”

“Well it’s like defying gravity, innit? What’s the one thing that drags everyone down? Gravity. How do you defy gravity?” Pause for dramatic effect, “Going into space,”

“Well that just proves how much of a colossal twat you are,” Louis mutters to himself, “If you’re on the same page as Ben Winston.”

“I think they just wanted to have a go on all the NASA things,”

Louis can’t even be mad at that – even at two am and listening to stupid Nick Grimshaw and only slightly less stupid Fifi – because it’s kind of true. As soon as Ben told them what he wanted to concept of the video to be, they all disagreed vehemently. Their one condition for doing the stupid idea was that they got to have a go on all the space station gear– Harry being the only one who decided he didn’t want to break a sweat.

“Probably,” Nick agrees, “I got a– right around the time the were filming the video, I got a text from Harry. And it just said; ‘ _chilling with a robot in NASA, wish you were here_ ’.”

Fiona scoffs, “No it didn’t,”

“No, it didn’t,” he says with a small laugh. “It said– well, I asked if he wanted to hang out at all and he said something along the lines of ‘ _at NASA. Filming. Will talk later._ ’ Very to the point.”

Louis distinctly remembers it not going like that at all. All day, Harry was giggling away on his phone, constantly asking Louis which joke was funnier, which baby’s face was cuter, which emoji he should send to Nick. He even made Louis take a picture of him and the robot, and quite a few group selfies as well, all to send to Nick. Not that Louis is surprised that Nick lied, Harry’s official narrative right now is that he’s completely uninterested in anything to do with the band, so it follows the story. And anyway, it’s not as if Louis isn’t used to people lying about things he or the other boys have done or said.

“He did send me a cheeky selfie later on, though,” Nick continues, after Fiona had made some comment about Harry not seeming like the professional type, or something. Louis doesn’t know, he’s too tired to try and keep up.

“A cheeky selfie,” Fiona repeats with a laugh.

Nick laughs as well, and something about it causes a little smile to appear on Louis’ lips. Not that it means anything, of course. “Just a cheeky little selfie. Yeah, it was a picture of all of them in front of a spaceship. Quite cool.”

“Were they all in the same clothes they were in for the music video? Like was it an on-set selfie?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Nick confirms quickly, a teasing lilt to his voice, “Why, is there an outfit you particularly liked?”

“I like Niall. Niall’s shirt.”

Nick snorts out another laugh and continues to tease Fiona about the obvious affection she has for Niall. Louis vaguely remembers when they last met that she was all over him, which is kind of weird considering she’s about ten years older than him. Niall didn’t seem to mind though, Louis reckons he basked in the attention.

“Yeah, that was a nice shirt,” Nick replies amongst his teasing.

“But?” Fiona supplies, obviously catching the upwards lilt at the end of Nick’s sentence, just as Louis did, indicating he wanted to say more but was biting his tongue.

“But… I prefer Louis.”

Louis’ eyes – which had been falling shut – snap open wide at Nick’s statement and he sits bolt upright in bed. He’s very well aware of Nick’s crush on him, especially after the pocket call debacle, but he never thought the man would openly admit to it, let alone on radio. The most fucked up part is that Nick knows Louis is probably listening, what with his interview in less than half an hour, which means he’s doing it on purpose. To fluster Louis? Get him to confess his own feelings? Who knows the reason. Louis– he’s a bit overwhelmed to be totally honest, never realised how much he enjoyed Nick flattering him with compliments until he had to wake up at arse o’clock and is too tired to school his emotions like he usually does. Louis may be panicking, even if just a little.

“Louis’ outfit in the video?” Fiona asks with a small laugh, her tone suggesting that she knows that’s not what Nick meant at all. It worries Louis that so many people know about his feelings. It worries him even more that he also kind of wants everyone to know.

After a small hum and a moment of deliberation, Nick’s answer comes, “Just Louis in general. He’s my favourite of the lot, I think.”

Louis blushes. Oh god oh god.

“Oh, and why’s that?”

If Nick answers this question, Louis thinks his heart might just explode into a thousand butterflies in his chest. Nick laughs again, Louis’ breath caught in his throat as he listens intently to his answer. “He’s just pretty isn’t he? He’s got it all, that boy; great looks, great voice, great friends, great hair. And he’s a Yorkshire lad as well, don’t think I could ask for anything more.”

Louis has literally died and gone to heaven.

“Oh,” Fiona giggles.

“Don’t give me that look, missy. She’s giving me this knowing look, like she knows something I don’t,” Nick chuckles in response, “God, Fifi, you’d think it was a crime to appreciate a successful man!”

“It is when it’s you!”

“Well we’ll have to find out later when he’s on the show, won’t we?” He replies, before going into his _very professional radio_ voice. “Louis from One Direction will be speaking to us before eight o’clock this morning, all the way from America to talk about the band’s new music. For now, though, here’s Hozier with _Someone New_.”

Louis flops back on the bed, his phone clutched to his chest. He can’t do the interview with Nick, not after just hearing what he has to say about him. Louis is scared he’ll get too flustered and accidentally out himself mid interview– or worse, _flirt_ with Nick. Nope, that’s it, he’s not doing it. Not at all.

_Liam are you awake?_

It only takes a few minutes for Liam to reply with a very clearly tired, _am now. What do you want?_

 _My interview with Nick is in twenty minutes,_ he types back, biting his lip. _I need u to do it for me_

_Why can’t you do it?_

_If I go on air with him I might break my contract._

All he gets back is a, _???_

Louis types out several responses, from _Nick is in love with me!_ to, _I will out myself you dickhead,_ to just plain begging, but before he gets a chance to send his most appropriate response, Liam replies again.

_Oh right. No fighting unless it’s on twitter and it’s banter-y. got it. Text Nick and tell him plans have changed tho I’m not doing that for you._

Louis grins, typing out his appreciation to Liam, before turning his attention to Nick’s contact. He doesn’t know what to say. How friendly should he be? Does Nick know that he heard the phone call? If he doesn’t, does he tell him? Does he tell him he just heard what he said on the radio? Or does he act cold and indifferent towards him?

_The interview in 15. Something came up. You’ve got Liam instead._

It feels far too cold and far too wrong, but Louis sends it before he has a chance to chicken out. The read receipt shows immediately, and Louis turns his attention back to the radio. He can’t help but notice that Nick sounds disheartened.

“I’ve just got a text from the 1D lads, apparently Louis is busy so can’t do the interview, but Liam has kindly offered to step in for him.” Nick says. The cheerfulness in his voice sounds fake, Louis feels awful. “Good old Liam, what a lovely chap he is!”

Louis sinks back into his pillows, staring up at the white ceiling and wondering what on earth he’s just done. He just made Nick sad. Why does that even matter to him? Louis hates Nick. Except, he’s starting to think that maybe he doesn’t, not one bit.

The _oh_ , Nick sends back a moment later positively breaks Louis’ heart.

***

Louis comes home on a Tuesday.

He got a later flight from America than the other boys did, wanting to prepare himself for being in the same country as _Nick Grimshaw_ for two weeks. Believe it or not, it actually took a lot more willpower than he expected it would. Especially since his handlers gave him an opportunity to stay in L.A. for a bit, do some pap walks, let journalists write articles about how he’s visiting his _baby mama_ , but Louis forced himself to decline. He’s seen how badly this whole scandal has been affecting the fans, and as much as the whole situation is out of his control, Louis’ still doing everything he can to diminish the damage. Even if that means going back to London early and possibly running into Nick. He’s doing it for the fans.

The house is empty and cold, blinds blocking out the majority of the midday sun. Louis sighs deeply, hating the lonely feeling he shouldn’t be feeling when stepping into his own home. His keys slide across the granite counter as he dumps his bags in the corridor and heads straight for the lounge. He slumps down on the sofa and pulls out his phone, letting the bright light illuminate the room.

_can i come over ?_

Louis busies himself with playing Angry Birds while waiting for Harry to answer. He feels as if he’s been avoiding the boy, for obvious reasons, but now he’s home, Louis realises he’s probably been an idiot. Nick’s gotten into his head, and Harry is sort of the only one he can talk to about it. Well, there _is_ Zayn, but he’s back in L.A. and Louis doesn’t fancy flying again any time soon.

 _sure mate , i’m at the shops so just let urself in. i’ll be home by 1 :)_ Harry replies, causing Louis to sag back in relief. He really doesn’t want to be alone right now, and it’s about a quarter past twelve now anyway, so Louis should only be at Harry’s for fifteen minutes by himself. He can live with that. Louis figures Harry will let him use his shower and borrow some clothes, so all he needs is to get his arse over there to freshen up.

He leaves the house about five minutes later and within twenty minutes he’s pulling up at Harry’s massive house. Sometimes it still baffles him that sweet little Harry can afford something as magnificent as this. Louis flashes his card at the gate, parking his little BMW on Harry’s gravel drive before making his way to Harry’s big front door and letting himself inside.

The house seems as cold as Louis’ was, but also lived in. Harry’s been home since Sunday, his coats and boots lined up in the hall, and opened post on the table proving as much. Louis immediately feels better and throws his keys into the bowl on the table before making his way to the living room, taking off his coat as he goes. He knows Harry will huff when he sees Louis’ clothes strewn all over his house, but he also knows he’ll pick them up and shove them in the washing machine without complaint or hesitation. Louis thinks that is one of the reasons they’re such good friends.

“Oh, thought you were Harry,” Louis hears a very familiar voice as he finally makes his way into the living room, looking up from under his fringe to find Nick bloody Grimshaw standing in the middle of Harry’s living room.

 _Traitor,_ is Louis’ first thought, thinking up at least three ways to get Harry back for this absolutely colossal back stabbing. There’s no way Harry didn’t know Nick was here, there’s no way he didn’t manipulate Louis into being in the same room as him. Louis’ second thought is, _oh fuck, I’m standing in the same room as Nick Grimshaw_ , and feels the colour drain from his face as the realisation dawns on him.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Louis says slowly, carefully. His hand is still gripping the door handle tightly, the cool metal grounding him just a little bit, allowing him to speak calmly to Nick.

Nick looks down at the floor, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, shifting from foot to foot nervously. “I– um. I wanted to say–”

Louis raises an eyebrow as Nick cuts himself off with a sigh. He takes a couple of steps towards Louis, a pleading look in his eye. Louis takes a few steps back nonetheless, the white wall barely touching his skin.

“I’m sorry. If… What you heard made this awkward,” Nick grits out eventually.

Louis blinks slowly, shaking his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Don’t do this,” He mumbles, “I know you heard, Lou, I saw Harry’s call log.”

“Oh,” Louis whispers, taking another step back as Nick invades his space. He still keeps his distance, enough for Louis to be able to escape if he wanted to, which he just might. The wall is cold where it’s pressing against his back, his t-shirt too thin to keep him warm.

“So, do you accept my apology?”

“I guess it’s fine,” Louis murmurs, shrugging his shoulders. It’s hard to act indifferent when Nick is _right there_ , looking all remorseful and soft. What is he thinking, Louis must still be jetlagged. “I mean, as long as you were only kidding, right?”

Nick’s head drops down, almost as if he’s ashamed. “I– no. I wasn’t joking, Louis. Quite frankly I’m bummed you’d even think I’d joke about something like this.”

“You weren’t kidding?” He asks. This is beyond bad. Nick shakes his head, no, looking down at Louis with absolutely the hardest face to say no to in history. Worse than Liam’s puppy dog eyes. “So you like me?”

“What is this, Primary School?” Nick snorts. Louis cracks a smile, immediately looking down in an attempt to hide it. “Yes, Louis, I like you. Have for a while now. The real question is, how do you feel about me?”

The problem is, Louis does like Nick, despite what the bastard did to him, his feelings have never truly diminished, and he doesn’t think he ever will. But despite how he feels, Louis has never been very good at admitting it. He’d much rather just show it. Actions speak louder than words and all that.

“Can I kiss you, Louis?” Nick blurts out, suddenly a lot closer than Louis remembers. Nick takes a step back as soon as he realises what he’s said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. Louis has to physically stop himself from whining at the loss of warmth of his body. “Sorry I– that was insensitive. I think I’m just gonna– uh, leave,”

Nick starts gathering up his stuff, looking for one shoe with one already in his hand, and Louis just stands there, watching. He doesn’t know what possesses him to call out, but he does so that’s that. “Yes.”

“Yes?” Nick repeats questioningly, straightening up from where he’s half bent over trying to look under the coffee table, and turning towards where Louis is standing. There’s a small smile on his face, as if he knows what Louis means but wants to hear him say it.

Louis gulps. “Yes you can.”

“I can what?” He smirks, dropping his boot to the floor and slowly making his way back over to Louis, until he’s crowded him back into the wall. They’re not touching, mere centimeters between their bodies, but space nonetheless, and Louis would desperately like to change that. He’s stubborn though, it’s got to be Nick who makes the first move.

“You know what,” Louis murmurs. Nick drops his head down, his nose just grazing the edge of Louis’ forehead, suddenly making Louis feel very small and powerless. It’s not a feeling he thought he’d be into, but the flush on his cheeks and equal heat in his groin clearly tell a different story.

“I do,” Nick chuckles, his fingers finally moving to rest on Louis’ waist, giving him a gentle squeeze. Louis’ chin tilts up almost on instinct, meaning his and Nick’s lips are only inches apart. They’re so close that Louis can feel Nick’s breath on his lips when he speaks. “But I want to hear you say it,”

Nick squeezes his waist again, causing Louis to bite his lip in order to hold back a moan. “You can kiss me, Nick,”

“My pleasure, darling,” Nick mutters, brushing their noses together before finally connecting their lips.

Louis feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. Nick’s kiss is slow, sweet, careful. He tastes so wonderful and his mouth is so warm, Louis can’t help but wrap his arms around the taller’s neck and bring their lips even closer together. Nick huffs out a small breath into his mouth as Louis’ fingers dance over his neck, one of his hands moving down to cup Louis’ arse cheek.

“What a lovely bum you have,” He says against Louis’ jaw, pressing a few sloppy kisses into his skin until Louis whines and drags their mouths back together.

The slowness of Nick’s kiss is gone now, replaced with a fast pace spitstorm, equally as heavenly, just a lot hotter. It almost embarrasses him how quickly he gets hard, just from a simple kiss, but when he rocks forward to discover Nick is equally as hard, Louis doesn’t mind too much any more.

Nick, however, seems to mind.

“That’s cheating,” He growls, using his massive hands to push Louis’ hips back against the wall. Louis whines, dragging his blunt fingernails over Nick’s scalp. Nick huffs out another giggle, before removing Louis’ hands from the back of his neck and pushing them against the wall behind him. “Stop that, it tickles.”

“And what if I don’t want to,” Louis challenges, a mischievous glint in his eye and a small smirk on his face. It quickly vanishes when Nick pushes his hands harder into the wall.

“Then I’m just going to have to restrain you.” He’s joking, Louis’ sure he is, but it doesn’t stop the moan that rips through his body, his head falling back against the wall. Nick raises an eyebrow. “It’s a punishment, baby, you aren’t supposed to enjoy it.”

“Nick– _fuck_ , kiss me, please kiss me again,” Louis begs, his eyes falling shut as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t understand why it’s so hot to have Nick restrain him, but it is, so he’s going to roll with it. After all, there’s no use pretending something doesn’t make him feel good when Nick can clearly tell that it does, what with his massive boner.

Nick’s face goes soft then, his fingers letting go of Louis’ wrists to trace his collarbones. Louis’ whimpers, the pads of Nick’s fingers lightly pressing into his skin. “Your wish is my command.”

One hand reaches up to caress his cheek as Nick leans in to kiss him again, but Louis turns his head away at the last second, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at the confused look on Nick’s face. “Sorry, I know this is weird, I know. But, can you–”

“Can I what?” Nick prompts when Louis stops himself mid-sentence. Louis shakes his head, eyes still tightly shut. “Louis, look at me,” Nick takes Louis’ chin between his finger and thumb and turns his head so they’re face to face. Louis slowly opens his eyes, immediately feeling relieved when Nick gives him a reassuring smile. “Can I what?”

“Can you, like–” Louis takes a deep breath before continuing, feeling his face heat up before he even says the words, “Can you _restrain me_ again?”

Nick doesn’t say anything, just nods, taking Louis’ hands in his and lacing their fingers together. He brings their linked hands up to eye level, before slowly pushing Louis’ hands against the wall behind them. Then he’s back snogging the life out of Louis, as if the boy hadn’t asked him to do some weird kinky shit.

Louis doesn’t know exactly how long it’s been, but after a while Nick detaches himself from Louis’ lips, kissing down his neck. He leaves a small love bite behind Louis’ ear where it won’t be seen, leaving Louis in a whimpering mess, before finally stopping at Louis’ collarbones. Nick holds both of Louis’ wrists in one hand (which, _oh my god_ is that hot) and uses his now free hand to push the collar of Louis’ t-shirt down, revealing his collarbone.

“You’re beautiful, Louis,” Nick murmurs into his skin, “I’ve always wanted to do this, ever since I saw you in that ridiculously oversized purple jumper at Harry’s barbecue and your beautiful collarbones were exposed.”

Louis gasps loudly at Nick’s words. He remembers the exact barbecue he’s talking about, the one two years ago when Louis had slept over the night before and hadn’t packed any clothes so had to wear Harry’s massive lavender jumper in lieu of anything else. He doesn’t remember Nick being there, but Louis has done his best to pay as little attention to Nick as possible since he’s actually gotten to know him. He doesn’t have long to dwell on it, though because then Nick’s sucking Louis’ skin into his mouth, grazing his teeth over the bone and getting the area all wet with his spit. Louis moans loud, his hips canting forward into nothingness while Nick latches even harder onto his collarbone. He never knew his collarbones were that desireable, to be honest, but apparently they are, and it feels good so Louis isn’t about to explain.

It’s not until Nick’s thumb pinches his nipple through his shirt that Louis really starts to lose it, almost sobbing with pleasure and desperately wiggling his hands around in Nick’s iron grip to hopefully get a hand on himself. He’s glad Nick knows not to let go, though, it makes it even hotter that Louis can’t do anything but stand there and take it.

“You taste amazing,” Nick whispers, licking over the angry red love bite he just created on Louis’ collarbone. It stings and Louis hisses between his teeth.

The front door slams shut.

“Lou? Are you here?” Harry calls from the corridor.

Nick practically jumps backwards, eyes as wide as Louis’ with the thought of getting caught. Louis clears his throat and pushes himself off the wall, running his fingers through his hair a few times and trying his best to straighten out his clothes.

“Yeah,” he replies, wincing at how wrecked his voice sounds, “I’m in the living room,”

Harry comes bounding through the door, immediately enveloping Louis in a massive hug. His fresh love bite scrapes across Harry’s coat and Louis tries to wince as discreetly as he can.

“Uh, yeah, I’m actually gonna head off, though,” Louis mumbles once they’ve parted, “I can see you have company and I don’t wanna ruin your afternoon.”

“You can stay, Lou, right Nick?” Harry replies, a look of worry on his face. Nick grunts in agreement from the sofa, pretending to be engrossed in his phone, when really Louis can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of his head.

Louis smiles weakly in response, before stumbling towards the door. “No better not. You two have fun though. I’ll be in touch.”

Harry doesn’t even have time to say goodbye before Louis is rushing out the door, coat in hand and love bite burning a hole in his t-shirt. What the fuck did he just do?

***

_Sorry if I stepped over the line or something Lou please text me so I know I haven't fucked up too bad_

The words are burned into Louis’ vision, glaring up at him in a bright light. He groans loudly and rolls over in bed so he doesn’t have to face the apology again. Nick had sent him that text a few hours after Louis had left Harry’s house, a few hours after he obviously had a mental breakdown and decided it would be a good idea to suck Nick’s face off.

Now, Louis is cocooned in his duvet, hiding from the world and never showing his face ever again. He’s far too embarrassed, can’t believe he asked Nick to do all those things to him, can’t believe Nick actually did those things without hesitation, can’t believe he enjoyed Nick doing all those things. His face heats up just thinking about the way Nick’s body pressed up against his, the way his tongue explored Louis’ mouth, the way his lips sucked Louis’ skin into his mouth. Louis groans out loud again, his fingers ghosting over the dark bruise on his collarbone, from where Nick assaulted him with his teeth. It’s the best damn love bite he’s ever received, and Louis doesn’t know if he’s going to be able to ignore Nick for very much longer.

Because the thing is, as much as Louis tries to tell himself he doesn’t want it, he really does. He wants to feel like he did when Nick was all over him. Louis hasn’t felt that loved or appreciated in such a long time that he was starting to forget what it felt like to be doted on, and to be honest it’s a feeling that he very much enjoys.

But the problem is that it’s _Nick_. Nick, who Louis promised himself he would forget about, who hasn’t payed Louis any attention in the past five years, who really fucking _hurt_ young and impressionable Louis. Nick, who as far as everyone else is concerned, Louis hates with all his heart. If it were with anyone else, Louis wouldn’t have hesitated one bit in replying to that text, but he’s at a loss because he doesn’t want to be cold and indifferent with Nick, but it’s starting to look like he’s going to have to. It’s not fair. Why can’t Louis do something reckless and not have to think about the consequences for once?

Louis’ phone rings, loudly blaring out the melody of _Baby One More Time,_ and causing Louis  to bury himself even further into the covers. He lets it ring out, intending on wallowing in his own self-pity for at least a few more days, cursing at his phone when it takes a lot longer than expected to ring out. Louis loves Britney, he really does, but there’s only so much of that song he can take. If only he could remember how to change his ringtone. Louis sighs loudly in contempt when the song finally cuts out, but the silence is short lived when his phone starts ringing again almost immediately.

After the third time, Louis decides this person probably deserves an answer, if they’re trying this hard to get hold of him. He reaches blindly behind him for his phone and puts it to his ear, answering with a gruff, “What?”

“Wanted to know if you wanted to go to the pub later, mate?” It’s Niall, being cheery and bright and _Niall_. Louis sort of hates himself for ignoring such a precious soul. “I’m getting withdrawal symptoms I’ll be honest with ya, it’s been too long since I saw you.”

“You literally saw me five days ago,” Louis huffs in response.

There’s a short pause, and then, “Why are you sulking? What happened?”

Louis really hates that his boys know him so well.

“I’m not sulking, shut up Niall.”

“Yes you are,” He says pointedly, “I bet you’re pouting as well right now.”

Louis sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Fuck, he was pouting. “Am not.”

“Whatever,” Niall replies with a short laugh, “Just, whoever you’re ignoring right now, give them a call. I’m sure they don’t even know what they did to upset you.”

“I’m not ignoring anyone, and even if I was, they haven’t upset me at all,” He huffs. If Niall were in the room with him, Louis would’ve thrown something at him.

“Okay, sure. I believe you,” Niall replies in a tone that suggests he definitely doesn’t believe him whatsoever. “Pub or no?”

Louis sighs loudly, realising Niall is probably right and Louis definitely needs to get out of the house. “Fine.”

Niall rings off after saying his goodbyes and Louis drops his phone on his stomach, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. He takes a deep breath, in and out, slowly convincing himself to text Nick back. Niall’s wrong, Nick definitely isn’t worried about him one bit, but on the other hand, Louis always loved a good flirt. It’s only Nick, it’s not like he’s leading on anyone important. He picks up his phone and types out a reply.

_you didn’t fuck up grimshaw. in fact, i rather enjoyed myself thanks._

It spirals out of control from there.

***

Louis is at the pub for the third night in a row, absolutely drunk off his arse, when he decides it’s a good idea to call Nick. It doesn’t even matter that it’s two in the morning, and Nick has to get up for work in three hours, Louis desperately needs to talk to him. It can’t wait.

“Louis?” Nick’s voice is rough and slow, as if he’d just woken up. (Well, Louis supposes he _has_ just woken up.)

“Nicholas,”

“Fuck, why are you ringing me so early? Some of us have work tomorrow,” Nick replies. Louis narrows his eyes, and takes a snip of his beer before answering.

“I have to talk to you, it’s important.” He says. There’s some shuffling on the other line, so Louis guesses Nick is sitting up in bed, giving Louis his full attention – just the way he likes it.

“Can’t it wait til morning?”

“Absolutely not.” Louis scoffs, offended Nick would even suggest that.

Nick sighs, obviously shattered, before telling Louis to continue, “Go on then, out with it.”

“I’m not a twink.”

“You… What?” He asks after a pause. He sounds tired, Louis doesn’t feel guilty.

“I am not a twink,” He repeats with a roll of his eyes, “You said, in that conversation I heard, you called me a twink. Well, I’m not.”

“You called me at two am just to tell me that you’re not a twink?” Nick asks slowly. He doesn’t sound angry or annoyed, just confused.

“Yes,” Louis replies, as if it wasn’t obvious before. There’s a short pause, and then Nick just, he starts laughing, short little huffs and a quiet cackle. It’s the best noise Louis has heard in his entire life, and he finds himself smiling as he imagines Nick tiredly rubbing his eyes, his shoulders shaking up and down as he tries to keep quiet. He shakes himself out of it soon enough. “What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?”

Nick keeps laughing for a while longer, causing Louis to huff out of impatience. He spots Niall at the bar, cheeks tinted red and laughing loudly with some people Louis doesn’t recognise. They’re probably people Niall doesn’t even know, Niall’s like that, he gets along with anyone in the blink of an eye. When Louis takes another swig of his drink and Nick still hasn’t stopped laughing, he huffs out a whiny, “Stop it,”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just,” Nick seems to have calmed down a little bit, letting out a sigh before continuing, “You really are something else.”

Louis is about to reply when he gets distracted by something outside. There’s a man, a tall man with dark hair and broad shoulders and a dog, standing just outside the pub. Louis can’t see his face, but he’s absolutely positive it’s as pretty as his body is. He looks like the kind of guy who could hold Louis down or up, absolutely ruin him (which, that’s not something Louis was aware he was interested in, but apparently he is so that’s that). Louis has to tell Nick.

“There’s a man outside. With a dog. He’s cute.” He says in lieu of anything else to say. Louis’ always been a talkative drunk – then again he’s also always been talkative sober as well – which is the reason he gives himself for saying what he sees. Maybe he should go on _Catchphrase,_ he’s sure Stephen Mulhern’s number is in his phone somewhere.

“That’s lovely, Louis,” Nick replies in a voice which implies he doesn’t think it’s lovely at all.

“Don’t be rude Nicholas,” Louis frowns at the glass for a second, watching as the man ties the dog up outside and walks into the pub. “He’s coming inside,”

“Inside where? Where are you?”

Louis shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. He can’t remember the name of the pub for the life of him. “Pub. Somewhere near Camden Town,”

“Knew it! You’re absolutely plastered!” Nick says with a little laugh. Louis resents that statement.

“I resent that statement,” The fact that he can even say the word _resent_ must be proof enough that he isn’t that drunk. Louis huffs when Nick makes a noise of scepticism, refusing to acknowledge the smile that creeps onto his face. However that becomes impossible when the man with the dog (now without the dog) smiles back, his eyes lingering on Louis for a second longer before walking to the bar. “He smiled at me, Nick,”

Nick is quiet for a moment, before he replies with an upbeat (though if you ask Louis, it doesn’t sound genuine at all), “Well what are you waiting for, go get him!”

“What? I don’t want him, I have you,” Louis replies with a nervous laugh. The man turns to look behind him, his eyes finding Louis’ again.

“Oh do you now?”

“Yes,” He says in a duh tone, his eyebrows furrowing, “We’re having a conversation right now, I don’t want to talk to him when I’m talking to you.”

“Right, well, er,” Nick seems to be stumbling over his words a bit. Louis decides to let him off the hook seeing as it’s late, “You said he was cute,”

“I said his dog was cute,” Louis corrects, looking at the bulldog out the window, “It’s a Bulldog. You have a Bulldog. They should have puppies.”

“Pig’s not a Bulldog. She’s a Bull Terrier. Completely different breed of dog all together, Lou.”

Louis just shrugs, watching as the bulldog sits down on the pavement and starts cleaning it’s arsehole. Louis vaguely wonders if he can lick his own arsehole, too. “They’ll just have to make a mongrel then. I want a puppy.”

“What about your mutt?”

“Bruce,” Louis corrects sternly. “Not mine. Eleanor took him to America when her contract ended. So now I am dog-less and fake-girlfriend-less. Woe is me.”

“Woe certainly is you,” Nick agrees easily, “Why do you want a puppy so bad? You’re barely at home anyway,”

“Ah but you’re forgetting, Grimshaw, break next year. I will have all the time in the world to look after our little puppy,”

“Our puppy, eh?” Nick repeats. He sounds smug, Louis can’t fathom why.

“I suppose if Pig’s it’s mum, she’ll want to see her pup quite a lot,” He reasons, sliding his hands down the side of the half empty pint glass to get rid of the condensation on the glass, “And I guess Pig can’t really see her pup if you don’t take her, do you? So we might as well just share ownership,”

“Very logical,” He says with a little laugh.

“Everything I say is logical,” Louis replies with a grin, nodding his head at Niall slightly when he catches his eye across the room. “I miss Pig, Nick,”

“You’ve never even met her before!”

Louis shrugs, irrelevant. “Why are you keeping her from me, then? I want Pig to give me doggy-cuddles.”

“Is this your way of inviting yourself round my flat?”

“No, but now that you come to mention it…” He trails off as Nick starts laughing again, watching Niall say goodbye to his friends and make his way over. He holds in a laugh when Niall trips over the leg of a chair, giving his friend a sarcastic thumbs up. Niall sticks up two fingers in reply.

“Sure Tomlinson, you can come round my flat, cuddle my dog, eat my food, I’m totally fine with that.” Nick says with a sarcastic tone to his voice just as Niall reaches the table and slaps his hands down on the sticky wood. Louis grins up at him.

“Oh brilliant, you’re cooking as well,” He teases, “It’s a date, then.”

Niall taps on his arm, quite urgently, so Louis reluctantly pulls the phone away from his ear to listen to his mate. He feels bad, because Nick is probably baring his soul right now and Louis can’t even rip the shit out of him for it. “Apparently there’s a pub just up the way that’s doing half price shots. We’re leaving,”

“Okay,” he agrees easily, bringing the phone back up to his ear and cutting Nick’s slow ramble off, “I’ve got to go now. Niall’s going to buy me shots,”

“Fuck if I’m buying you anything, you cheeky cunt!” Niall shouts, causing a bubble of laughter to expand in Louis’ chest.

“Take care of yourself, Lou, alright?” Nick’s saying into his ear. Louis hums in agreement. “Call me when you get in, yeah? Wanna make sure my _twinky date_ gets home safe,”

“I am going to skin you alive,” He threatens weakly, smiling when Nick laughs. “I’ll call you later. Bye.”

He hangs up, puts his phone in his pocket, and grabs the half-pint on the table, downing it in two. Niall’s complaining, saying he could’ve done it in half the time, but Louis ignores it and links his arms with the Irishman, letting himself be led into alcohol heaven.

***

“I’m home, Nick,” Louis mumbles into his phone when the call goes through. His face is completely smushed against the mattress and his eyes are closed, legs dangling off the end of the bed. It’s uncomfortable but he’s too tired to move.

“Good. Thank you for calling me,” Nick sounds chirpy, too chirpy for five in the morning. Louis frowns, swallows thickly, and utters even more unintelligible nonsense into his phone.

“Said I would, didn’t I?”

Nick laughs quietly, a ding of a kettle going off in the background, “You did.”

“Are you making tea?” Louis asks.

“Coffee,”

“Traitor,” He teases, his nose scrunched up, “What are you even up for anyway? It’s too early,”

“I’ve got work, remember?” Louis hums in agreement, vaguely remembering that Nick works at arse o’clock on the weekdays. Radio, or something. He’s too tired to remember. “Lou? Are you in bed?”

“ _On_ bed, yeah,” He replies half-heartedly, snuggling a bit further into his mattress.

“Have you still got your shoes on, babe?” Louis frowns, before feeling around with his feet to tell if he’s got his shoes on. It doesn’t surprise him that he does; the first thing he did when he came in was collapse on the bed. He makes a noise, hopefully signalling that yes, he does have his shoes on. “Okay. Can you take your shoes off for me? And your jeans and your jacket, as well. Can’t have you being uncomfortable, can we?”

Louis whines, but does what he’s told, rolling onto his back and heaving himself into a sitting position. He shrugs off his jacket first, before kicking at his shoes with his toes and sliding his (thankfully not too tight) jeans off his legs, before collapsing back onto the bed. “Okay, done.”

“Good boy,” Nick says absentmindedly, a clinking noise indicating to Louis that Nick is stirring his coffee. Louis doesn’t dwell too long on the fact that Nick calling him a _good boy_ does things to his tummy, because Nick’s talking again, and listening takes up all of his effort. “Now bury yourself under those covers, yeah? It’s a bit nippy this morning and we don’t want you catching a cold,”

Louis groans again, pushing himself up the bed with his feet and bringing the covers with him as he goes. He sighs when his head hits the pillow, the soft texture much more favourable than the hard mattress. Nick starts whistling quietly, probably forgetting he’s even on the phone to Louis, and it’s nice. It sends Louis right off to sleep as he listens to the unrecognisable tune Nick is humming as he busies himself with getting ready. There’s just one thing Louis needs to address before he fully gives himself over to sleep, though.

“Nick,” He mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

“Yes, Lou?”

Louis swallows again, his eyelids feeling heaving. “I’m _not_ a twink.”

Nick laughs, much as he had earlier when Louis had called him regarding the same thing, but stops pretty soon after. “I know you’re not, Lou. Get some rest now.”

And the next minute, Louis must be asleep, because he doesn’t even remember ringing off.

***

Not even three hours later, Louis’ bladder wakes him up. He rolls out of bed extremely reluctantly, his eyes half open and his legs wobbly, and makes his way to the bathroom to do his business. He’s still a tiny bit drunk definitely needs more sleep than he’s had, but the walk to and from the bathroom has caused his to fully wake up. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, Louis decides to flip the radio on and charge his phone to see if he has any messages.

“Later on in the show we’re going to be speaking to Douglas Booth, so tweet in your questions using the hashtag ‘hiya Douglas’. Right now it’s eight twenty-nine, here’s Tina Daheley with the news,” Nick’s voice fills Louis’ otherwise quiet room as he waits for his phone to turn on. It’s surprising just how soothing Nick’s voice is, and Louis finds himself settling back into the pillows propped up against the headboard, very comfortable indeed.

His first text message is from Nick. Louis feels giddy. _Hope you had a good night’s sleep :) btw you are a twink_

Louis grunts incredulously. How dare he even joke about such a thing, Louis is anything but a twink. He’s Sugar Daddy as fuck. _That’s not what you were saying three hours ago you dirty liar._

It may be a bit much, but it seems wildly appropriate to Louis. He settles back into the mattress and tunes in to the radio, knowing that Nick won’t reply until he’s finished work, at ten. Tina has finished the news report and Nick and Fiona are currently bantering back and forth with her, asking what she’s planning to do for the rest of her day. Louis doesn’t care all that much, just lets Nick’s voice take him to a warm, happy place. Except it’s not actually Nick’s voice which is making him happy, Louis reminds himself sternly, it’s just the fact that he’s still drunk.

“Thanks Tina!” Nick says in his loud, booming voice, Fiona repeating the phrase. “Tina will be back at nine-thirty with an update on that story. This is Sam Smith, with _Writing’s On The Wall_.”

Louis frowns slightly, wondering why Nick cut to a song so quickly. Usually he’ll have a bit of a chat about the news stories with Fiona, ask the general public to get involved in the debate they’re most likely having, do a link, and then finally play a song. Many people get annoyed because he talks so damn much, but Louis doesn’t mind at all. He realises why, however, when he gets a text not a moment later.

 _knew you wouldn’t wanna sleep if i’d told you the truth,_ Nick’s text – which he had purposefully cut short his post-news link to send – reads. _which is that you’re a twink,_ comes through not a moment later.

 _am not,_ he replies petulantly. Not because he thinks he’s not a twink, mainly because he likes winding Nick up. Also he’s not a twink. _far too old to be a twink i am._

Nick’s reply comes almost instantaneously this time – probably because he’s playing a track right now. Fuck, Nick’s at work. Louis forgot for a second. _what?!! u mean you’re not a nineteen year old fluff ball with soft brown hair and puffy nips?!!!_

Louis snorts at that, he was never a nineteen year old fluff ball with soft brown hair and puffy nips. (Okay, maybe he was, but that was ages ago. It was a dark time in Louis’ life.) _‘fraid not._

 _that’s it then, relationship over. i feel so betrayed._ Louis huffs out a laugh at Nick’s dramatics and types out a reply. He honestly forgot how exhilarating flirting over text was.

_sigh. guess we’ll have to cancel that date then as well._

The next text takes a bit longer to come through, as the record has now finished and Nick’s now doing the link he should’ve done before he played the track. Louis wonders if he got in trouble for doing it in the wrong order, wonders if he thought it was worth it, just for Louis. He tries not to blush too hard at the thought.

_yeah what a shame :( i’d picked out a really nice bar i was gonna take you to as well. proper classy like._

_what’s it called?_

_the bouverie. it’s right near my flat so we could’ve got takeout and gone back to mine after. oh well…_

Louis very much likes the sound of that. He bites his lip, only hesitating for a moment before throwing all caution to the wind. As his uncle always said, go hard or go home. _meet me there at 8 tmrw_

Through the shitty radio, Louis can hear Nick suck in a breath. He grins shyly, knowing that he caused that reaction, and now everyone will know how gone Nick is for him. He loves it.

“What was that?” Fiona laughs, obviously picking up on the noise as well. To be honest, he doesn’t know how anyone could have missed it, it was pretty loud.

“What? Nothing,” Nick replies defensively.

“It was something,” She teases again. There’s a small silence, but not an awkward one, and then Fiona is laughing, her words taking a disbelieving tone. “Grimmy’s got a date, everyone! A boy just asked him out!”

“She’s absolutely lying,” Nick retorts, his tone uneasy.

At the same time, Louis gets another text through, _u serious?_

_yeah, why not. i still need to have cuddles from your dog, after all._

It’s worth it to hear Nick stutter out his next link on bloody _radio._

***

“You’re so annoying,” Louis grumbles as soon as he walks through the door of the pub and finds Nick at the bar, “Living so far away from everything,”

“Excuse me, I actually live in the City of London. You’re the one who lives far away,” Nick retorts, raising an eyebrow at him. Louis hasn’t made eye contact yet, kind of too nervous, kind of too conscious that this is an actual date, Nick actually _came_. “What do you want?”

Louis really wants a cocktail. A nice Margarita, or Sex on the Beach, or Mai Tai– fuck, it doesn’t even matter at this point, Louis just wants something fruity. But… this is a date, he doesn’t want to make a bad impression. Well, an already worse impression, he’s already twenty minutes late, thanks to the bloody traffic, and he’s in a rotten mood before of it. Nick probably wants to go home already.

“Pint of… anything,” He says instead of ordering the cocktail he so desperately desires. He knows the sugar content would also probably make him more pleasurable company, but he doesn’t want to embarrass Nick. “Anything other than Bitter.”

Nick nods and doesn’t say anything else, focusing on getting the barman’s attention. He can probably sense Louis’ bad mood. Louis knows he’s ruining this date before it even properly gets started, but he doesn’t know what to do about it. He doesn’t even know why he’s grumpy; was jittery all day with nerves, but as soon as he got in the taxi all his nerves seemed to disappear and be replaced with frustration. He probably needs to calm down a bit, maybe then he’ll feel better.

“I’m just gonna pop to the loo,” He mumbles

Nick nods as a sign of acknowledgement, “Alright I’ll find us a table.”

Louis sighs loudly and makes his way to the bathroom at the back of the pub. The toilets are grimy and smell like urine, as to be expected, but Louis pushes that to the back of his mind and makes his way to the sink, splashing his face with water. He takes a deep breath, looking at himself in the mirror and cringing noticeably. Louis had made an effort for this date, but he looks like a mess right now. His jeans have mud splattered all up the legs, his freshly ironed shirt now creased and scruffy, and his hair is a total mess. Curse the English weather for ruining his clothes.

Louis groans loudly to himself. He needs to get over this, move past the fact that everything has gone wrong thus far and focus on making the rest of the date count. Positive thoughts, positive thoughts. A wave of anxiety rushes over him. Louis really wants to make this work with Nick, he hopes the man won’t mind too much about his scruffiness. Hell, he wishes the man will pardon his shitty mood as well. Louis needs to learn to control his emotions.

After a small pep talk, he makes his way back outside, spotting Nick sitting at a booth in the corner with two drinks by him, and makes his way over. As he sits down, Nick shoots him a smile, taking a sip of his wine and putting it back on the beer mat. Louis scoffs, taking a swig of his own drink.

“Knew you were a pretentious hipster,” He grumbles somewhat playfully, “Who the fuck drinks wine at a pub?”

“I’ll have you know this is very expensive wine, this is the only pub in the area you can get it on the cheap,” Nick retorts, flashing Louis a grin. Good, at least Nick knows he’s only teasing.

Louis snorts incredulously, “Yeah and I bet it was still three times the price of mine,”

“Well, when you can afford it, why not?”

“Fair point,” He replies with a laugh, “Still doesn’t make you any less of a hipster,”

Nick grunts, turning fully in his chair with a small frown on his face, “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“Absolutely not, I think you’re still boyfriend material nonetheless,” Louis laughs. His face falls and he blushes beet red once he realises what he’s said. Boyfriend material? What the fuck? They’ve been on a date for five minutes and already he’s talking about being boyfriends? God, Nick probably wants nothing to do with him after that, probably is thinking up an escape route right now.

“Boyfriend, eh?” He teases. Louis is so incredibly embarrassed he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“I didn’t mean–”

“No no, it’s fine, I totally understand.” Nick interrupts with a teasing smirk. “You’ve got criteria, so have I.”

Louis raises an eyebrow and tests his forearms on the edge of the sticky table, leaning forward. “Oh really Nicholas? Like what?”

“Well, they have to like Pig for a start,”

“Please,” he snorts, “I adore Pig already and I haven’t even met her,”

“They have to have good dress sense,” he continues. Louis frowns, fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt nervously. This must be Nick’s way of telling him he looks scruffy and terrible. Louis knew he shouldn’t have run for that Taxi, especially not in the rain, but he didn’t want to be late. Looks like that didn’t go to plan either, seeing as he made Nick wait for twenty odd minutes.

Their hands bump on the table, bringing Louis out of his thoughts. He thinks it was probably purposeful. Nick noticeably looks him up and down, a small smirk on his lips, “Check. And well, I mean, music is my entire life, right? I don’t think I could cope if they didn't like music.”

“Looks like I tick all three, then,”

Nick’s eyebrows raise, and he looks up sort of hopeful. “You like music, then?”

“Nicholas,” he says seriously, “Not to sound big headed but you do know who I am, right? Louis Tomlinson, one fifth–” Louis misses Zayn _so_ much, “I mean quarter, of One Direction.”

“No I know it’s just, some musicians end up hating it, y’know? Or, only listen to music when it’s work related,”

Louis smiles widely, happy to talk about the thing he’s passionate about, “Not me. I love my job, especially the song _writing_ side of it, and I love that I can get inspiration from everywhere. I don’t know what it is about music, I just love how it can evoke an emotion in you so quickly. Like, Adele’s song _Rolling in the Deep_ , you can literally feel the anger she has when she’s singing, and you kind of wanna batter the lad for making her feel that way.”

“Yeah, I... You definitely fit the criteria,” Nick replies after some stunned silence, his thigh pressing into Louis’. Louis is surprised at first, but it feels nice, so he doesn’t pull away.

The conversation flows easily after that, Louis finds himself relaxing into this unfamiliar setting and actually having a very good time. Not that he didn’t expect it, Louis’ always known that Nick can hold a conversation well, their recent texting only proving that further.

Within twenty minutes, Louis has finished his pint and is gearing for another drink. He’s not even that drunk, just very relaxed and – surprisingly – extremely happy, which is probably why he doesn’t really care that much when he cuts Nick off mid sentence. He hopes Nick doesn’t care that much either. “I want another drink,”

To his credit, Nick does completely drop the conversation and raises an eyebrow, humouring Louis, probably. “Oh yeah? What do you want?”

“Cocktails!” He exclaims happily, smiling wide. When Nick starts to laugh quietly, a hint of adoration in his eyes, Louis’ expression drops, the smile replaced with a frown. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, nothing. What cocktail do you want?” Nick asks, sobering up the second he sees Louis frown.

Louis taps his lip, humming slightly. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Nick’s eyes drift to his lip, and presses their thighs back together just to tease him further. Then, he looks at Nick directly in the eye, a mischievous grin on his face. “Sex on the Beach.” It’s a terrible cliché but Louis thinks it’ll do the job.

Nick gulps visibly. His eyes linger on Louis’ lip – now caught between his teeth – before flashing quickly back to his eyes. Louis smiles even wider, knowing exactly what must be going through Nick’s head right now (a lot of dirty stuff, or at least he hopes). The sexual tension is so thick one could cut the air with a butter knife. Nick’s hand clenches on the table – fingers just inches from Louis’ own – and then unclenches as he nods his head, standing up quickly, clumsily, almost knocking the table over. Bingo! Job done.

“Yeah, okay.” He mumbles once he’s steadied the empty glasses on the table. Louis thinks it’s more to Nick himself than to Louis, so he doesn’t reply, just watches Nick walk to the bar, his pert bum not even wiggling a little bit as he walks. Louis thinks that’s a bit unfair, his bum wiggles if he so much as breathes. Not that he’s complaining about having a big arse, he just wishes that Nick would have an equally big arse so he’d have something to oggle at. And where is this coming from? At which point in his life it became normal and common to think about Nick Grimshaw’s arse?   

Nick leans over the bar, his gangly legs crossing at the ankles, in a position that Louis thinks would be greatly improved if Nick had a big bum. But alas, his bum is so tiny Louis has to squint a bit to find it in his jeans – not that it’s size makes it any less lovely, Louis still thinks it’s a nice bum, he just knows his is nicer. Louis wonders briefly what Nick thinks of his arse. He hopes he likes it, took him a while to grow and everything. But those legs though, those are some fucking super long legs. Louis can appreciate that very much so, he does love a good pair of strong legs. He reckons Nick could probably hold him up against the wall with those thigh muscles. He could tease Nick about it, call him daddy long legs when he comes back with that colourful alcohol. Ha, _daddy_.

Louis seems to get a bit lost in thought about his arse and legs, because the next thing he knows Nick is sitting back down at the table, completely empty handed. Louis doesn’t even say anything, just waits for the man to explain, which he inevitably will.

“They’re out of cranberry juice, do you want something else?”

Louis frowns, he was really looking forward to that cocktail. “Oh, um–”

“I mean, or we could just pick up some orange and cranberry juice from Waitrose and make them back at my place?” Nick asks, filling the silence Louis creates with his slow answer.

Louis blinks slowly. He’s well aware of where this evening is likely heading if he goes back to Nick’s flat. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting Nick to ask, it was part of the original plan, he just didn’t expect for it to be so early on in the night. Louis was hoping to have downed at least two more pints before stumbling his way over to Nick’s and potentially passing out on his shoulder in front of a film.

He’s just not had sex in a while, is the thing. The last time was probably on tour last year when they’d all gone out partying to celebrate one of the crew member’s birthdays, and some very enthusiastic Brazilian fella had taken him into the toilets and practically sucked his brain out of his cock, Louis of course returning the favour soon after. And even then, they only exchanged blowjobs, no butt stuff was involved. The last time Louis did butt stuff was five years ago, before X-Factor, when he was still figuring out his sexuality with the help of his best friend Stan and first (and only) boyfriend Michael. Ironically enough that was also the first time he did butt stuff – Louis doesn’t like to shout about the fact that he’s one fuck clear of being a butt virgin, okay? Even _Harry_ has done more butt stuff that Louis, and Louis had a two year head start. He doesn’t even want to think about all the butt stuff Nick has done – even the idea of it has Louis feeling irrationally jealous of the man.

“Or not… It was just an idea,” Nick backtracks suddenly, bringing Louis’ attention back to reality. Sometimes he gets lost in his own head and completely ignores everyone around him.

“No, no, it’s– I’d like that, yeah,”

Nick’s demeanor immediately changes, a wide smile spreading on his face. He stands up then, gesturing for Louis to follow him and they exit the pub together. “We can even get some Pizzas or something and have dinner, if you want,”

“That sounds lovely, Nicholas,” Louis replies in a teasing voice, his shoulder bumping into Nick’s as they make their way down the street. He thinks he spots a small blush spread across Nick’s cheeks, but pretends not to see it. He’s sure there’s an equal blush spreading across his own face anyway, and wouldn’t be very happy if Nick pointed it out.

Louis slips on a wet cobble, but Nick grabs his arm, preventing him from falling flat on his face and completely embarrassing himself. _Good job Louis,_ he scolds himself internally, _he’s gonna think you’re a right clutz._

But despite embarrassing himself frequently on this date, Louis thinks it’s going alright so far.

So far so good.

***

“Pop those in the oven, will you?” Nick asks as he wrestles the front door of his flat shut. Louis has already gone ahead and is a bit preoccupied with nosing about the place. Nick’s flat is nice, not very big, but homely, lived in. It’s much nicer than Louis’ flat and – not to be big headed or anything – probably cost about half the price.

Louis hums an agreement and goes off in search of the kitchen (second door on the left) dropping the shopping bag he’s carrying onto the marble-top island. He fiddles with the buttons on the oven for a good thirty seconds before figuring out how to actually turn it on. It’s the oven’s fault– one of those stupid touchpad ones where you have to press like six buttons at once just to turn the fan on.

“Your oven’s stupid,” he says to Nick as he hears the man walk through to the kitchen.

“You think everything’s stupid,” Nick snorts in reply, handing Louis two unwrapped pepperoni pizzas to place on the tray, which he does so quickly. He’s just excited for his pizza, alright? He’s never had a Waitrose pizza before, Louis bets they’re dead posh.

“That’s not true,” He says. At that moment he hears the pitter patter of tiny feet on the wooden floor, faint panting coming from round the corner, and the next thing he knows there are two paws pressing against his leg. Louis giggles and kneels down, stroking Pig’s head and letting her lick his hand. “I don’t think Pig’s stupid,”

Nick’s rustling the shopping bags behind him but Louis isn’t paying much attention, all his energy focused on giving Pig the best damn pet of her life. She seems to like him, which is good, Louis likes to think that Nick and Pig are a package deal. If it was Louis’ dog, he’d take her everywhere with him, and if his boyfriend didn’t like her, then his boyfriend would have to leave. Not that– Louis doesn’t think he’s Nick’s boyfriend. Not in the slightest.

He’s interrupted by Nick scooting Pig a bit to the left with his foot so he could put something in the fridge. Louis gives her an extra kiss on the head so she knows she’s loved. “Well that’s where you’re entirely wrong,” He says with a chuckle. “Pig is the dumbest dog in the whole world,”

“How dare you!” Louis gasps loudly, covering Pig’s ears so that she doesn’t have to hear this slander against her. “He doesn’t mean it darling, you’re the smartest dog in the entire universe,”

“Yesterday she saw the shadow of her own tail wagging and ran to bed scared,” Nick deadpans.

“She was just protecting herself,” He replies, defending Pig where she can’t herself. When Nick snorts loudly, Louis huffs and picks Pig up in his arms. She’s quite heavy for a little dog, but Louis copes. He’s had to carry Bruce before, Pig is nothing compared to that lump. “ C’mon Pig, lets go somewhere Nicholas Meanie Grimshaw can’t bully you.”

“Oh right, I’ll just bring your drink to you shall I?”

“You’re a love,” Louis throws over his shoulder sarcastically, carrying Pig out of the kitchen and into the lounge.

Louis settles into the sofa, Pig on his lap, watching as she sniffs his t-shirt. He gives her a pat on the head and she lifts her head up to look him in the eye, panting wildly. Louis giggles when Pig licks at his fingers as he tries to tickle under her chin, and talks to her in a baby voice when she seems to respond to it. “We don’t like Nick, do we, Pig? I should just take you home with me, shouldn’t I? I wouldn’t call you stupid, no, I’d treat you like the brain box you are.”

Pig barks in agreement, Louis thinks, growling quietly when Nick’s warning tone seeps through the walls and into the lounge. Louis pouts at her and gives her another kiss on the head.

“You’re so mean to her,” He says loudly so Nick can hear him in the kitchen.

“Only when she’s naughty,” Comes the reply.

“But she hadn’t even done anything,” Louis argues, taking Pig’s little paw in his hand when she offers it out to him, muttering quietly so only he and Pig can hear, “I’ll stick up for you, pup,”

“We don’t bark at guests, do we Pig Dog?” Nick says as he walks through the lounge door, carrying two glasses in his hands. He sighs when he sees Louis on the sofa with Pig on his lap and puts the drinks down on the coffee table, “Pig get down! She’s not allowed on the sofas,”

Louis pouts but gently lowers Pig to the floor, smiling when she curls up at his feet instead of walking off somewhere else. Once satisfied, Nick grabs the drinks from the coffee table and hands one to Louis, settling in to the sofa himself, his knees resting under his chin. Louis takes the drink gratefully, taking a big swig of the fruity cocktail, before sighing.

“I really needed that,” He says blissfully, his eyes slipping closed for a moment, “I’ve needed that all day,”

“Oh yeah? Had a rough one?” Nick asks.

“Mmm,” He hums in agreement, taking another drink. Louis really has had a bitch of a day. Liam’s been short with him all day for god knows why, and he’s most likely been short back because he’s been so nervous for this date. If that wasn’t bad enough, he ran out of milk, so couldn’t have tea _or_ cereal, and then Stella, Modest! Management’s Secretary, called to tell him he needed to schedule yet another meeting about his coming out.

Which, that’s a thing that’s actually happening, extremely soon, and Louis doesn’t know if he’s ready. No, he knows he’s ready, he’s just scared for the _knew it_ ’s and the _ew what a disgusting fag_ ’s and _he looks like he takes it up the arse_ ’s. Louis isn’t ready for the hate comments. He honestly doesn’t know how out gay people even deal with it, heck, he doesn’t know how _Nick_ deals with it, what with everyone and their mother knowing his sexuality.

“You can tell me, if it’s bothering you that much,” Nick offers. His knee falls to the side and presses against Louis’ arm, warmth spreading through his entire body. Louis smiles, pushing his arm a little closer to Nick’s heat.

Nonetheless, he shakes his head, “It’s fine, really, just been one of those days, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know the ones,” He says with a smile. “I hope this evening has been a nice turn of events, though? Maybe cheered you up a bit?”

“Yeah, definitely has,” He mumbles, staring intently at his glass. Louis can’t seem to hold Nick’s gaze, he doesn’t know what it is but he’s blushing everywhere from his cheeks to his chest and his stomach is doing triple backflips. Just Nick’s presence makes him so overwhelmingly happy that he doesn’t know how to handle himself. Which, even that is hard for Louis to handle.

Louis takes a distracted sip of his drink, but misjudges slightly and a drop of cocktail spills over his lips. He tries to catch it with it’s tongue, but it gets away from him. He’s about to wipe his mouth on his arm, when he hears a soft, _“Here, let me,”_ and before he knows it, Nick’s thumb is wiping against his chin.

Louis finally locks eyes with Nick, the older’s eyes warm and soft around the edges, inviting Louis in. He doesn’t realise how close they are until Nick takes a shuddering breath and Louis feels it on his lips. It tingles and he can’t help but tuck his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down softly. Nick’s eyes harden slightly at the sight, and he leans in even closer, his fringe brushing against Louis’ head.

“Pig, bed,” He says suddenly, not taking his eyes off Louis. Pig complains at Louis’ feet and Louis frowns, feeling bad for the poor dog.

“No Pig, stay,” Louis counters, also not breaking eye contact with Nick.

“Pig, bed,” Nick says again, his voice deep and commanding. Something stirs in Louis’ stomach but he pushes that thought away, more focused on getting justice for Pig Dog at this moment in time.

“She doesn’t have to leave, Nick, not on my accord,” He says quietly.

Nick’s nose brushes against Louis’ as he shakes his head, “I’m not kissing you in front of my dog, Louis,”

Louis inhales sharply, not looking away from Nick as he sharply says, “Pig, bed.”

Pig whines a bit but does eventually shuffle her way out of the lounge and to wherever her bed is. In the time it took to get her to leave the room, Nick had taken their glasses and put them both on the coffee table, his hands settling on Louis’ neck. Louis bites his lip again, watching as Nick’s gaze darken.

“I hate it when you bite your lip,” He mutters, gently pulling at Louis’ chin until his lip is free, and then covers it with his own.

Louis sighs into the kiss, his hands making their way to Nick’s waist, pulling the two of them closer together. Nick doesn’t seem to mind much and goes easily, kissing Louis deeper. Nick’s kisses always (he says always, Louis’ only kissed him twice including this time) start out soft and slow, as if he’s afraid one sudden movement would scare Louis away, as if he’s afraid of Louis crumbling to pieces beneath his lips. That would never happen, obviously, but Louis’ not about to detach his lips from Nick’s just to tell him that _you can kiss me harder you know, I’m not going to break_.

Not that Louis really minds how Nick kisses him, it almost makes him feel treasured, the amount of closed mouthed kisses he’s given make the real making out worth so much more, like Nick only saves those sort of kisses for people who are truly worth it. Sometimes Louis doesn’t feel worth much of anything, but when Nick’s lips are on his, kissing him slow and deep, he feels like he could rule the world.

The only downfall of Nick’s kisses, is all the teasing make Louis impossibly hard in the blink of an eye, and it’s not long at all before he’s climbing into Nick’s lap, folding himself up and rocking his hard dick into Nick’s semi.

“Louis, fuck,” He groans, “Slow down, Lou, love, please slow down,”

Louis, being the little shit he is (and maybe he just wants Nick to _restrain him_ again, but no one has to know that) grins and grinds into Nick’s dick again, a glint in his eye when he says, “Make me,”

Nick frowns but otherwise doesn’t move. Obviously not what Louis was going for, so he circles his hips slowly but roughly in Nick’s lap. He seems to get it then. “You want me to make you, darling?”

“Maybe,” He replies, the shit-eating grin on his face telling a different story altogether. When Nick still makes no plan to move, Louis slides his hands down Nick’s torso, settling on his dick. He squeezes it gently through Nick’s jeans, noticing how thick and long it feels in his hands and storing that information away for later, which finally seems to be the breaking point.

“Never said I wanted you to touch my dick, did I, Lou?” Nick says, taking a hold of Louis’ wrists in his hands. Louis shakes his head. “What was that? I can’t hear you.”

“No,” Louis whispers, the feeling returning in his stomach at the sound of Nick’s harsh, commanding voice.

“And if I don’t say you can touch me, you’re not going to touch me, are you?”

“No,” He says again, Nick swallowing the sound with a kiss.

“Good,” He mutters against Louis’ lips. Louis’ stomach does backflips at the sound of that word (there’s just something about it he really likes) but the feeling doesn’t last long, because Nick is letting go of Louis’ wrists, holding on to his hip in one hand, the other cupping Louis’ jaw. “Put your hands behind your back, yeah?”

Louis nods. He puts his hands behind his back, feeling one of Nick’s large hands wrap around both of his wrists, pressing his arms into the small of his back. It feels amazing, Nick’s warm fingers squeezing at the skin just enough for Louis to feel it, and he closes his eyes for a moment, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

“That okay?” Nick asks timidly.

“Yeah,” He breathes, his lips bumping against Nick’s as he speaks.

“Okay,” He says in reply, his other hand moving to the front of Louis’ jeans and pulling his dick out once he can fit his hand inside. “I’m gonna wank us off now,”

Louis isn’t quite sure what Nick means, or how exactly he’s going to do that with one hand, but then he feels something other than fingers pressing up against the underside of his dick. He gasps loudly and cants his hips forward when he realises that the thing pressed against his dick is actually _Nick’s_ dick in all it’s glory. Louis realises his mistake quickly when Nick’s fingernails dig into his wrist.

“Sorry, sorry,” He mutters quickly, resting his forehead heavily against Nick’s, “I’ll be good I promise,”

“I’m glad,” Nick replies with a smile. He moves his hand along the length of both of their dicks (both of their dicks, _together,_ fuck) as if testing the waters and Louis does his best to stay still. “Now c’mere and let me kiss you,”

Louis goes easily, whining into Nick’s mouth as his large hand starts to wank them both off. Nick pulls away briefly to spit in his hand in order to make his movements smoother, and from then on it’s all steam ahead. The pace of Nick’s hand is completely opposite to how he kisses, all fast and rough and hard, and it’s honestly wonderful. Louis only vaguely remembers the last handjob he was given, but he’s absolutely sure this is the best handjob he’s ever received.

Nick still kisses slow, his tongue massaging Louis’ own, seemingly swallowing every sound Louis makes eagerly. Eagerly, but never greedily. Never like he was entitled to them, and always at a controlled speed. That’s what Louis likes to call it, rather than slowly, because he’s the most impatient person he knows and if he thinks it’s slow he’ll try and speed it up a bit, which is bad. Louis promised to be good. Louis _will_ be good.

He is good, for the majority of it, right until he’s sure he’s about to come, and then he can’t even think about controlling himself. He fucks up into Nick’s hand quickly, chasing his orgasm as if he doesn’t want it to get away from him.

“I– Nick, I’m gonna–” Louis cuts himself off with a low moan as Nick thumbs at his slit, “I’m so close, fuck,”

“Me too, baby, shit,” Nick grunts back. His hand speeds up on Louis’ and his dicks, trying to bring both of them over the edge.

Of course, Louis loses it first.

As he reaches the peak of his orgasm, all Louis feels are gentle kisses against his neck, all he hears are Nick’s soft words whispered into his ear, and that truly is something he’s never going to forget. He’s never going to forget the way Nick’s voice sounds when he calls him, _“absolutely stunning when you come, Lou,”_ when he’s about to come himself, he’ll never forget the way Nick squeezes his wrists impossibly tighter as he comes himself, he’ll never forget the feeling of Nick’s warm come trickling down his dick and mixing with his own release.

But most importantly, Louis will never forget how cherished he feels in this moment, Nick’s hard breaths against his neck, his hands throbbing behind his back, Nick’s fingers rubbing at the sweaty skin on his hip. He’s never felt like this before, and Louis supposes he’ll never feel like this again with anyone else.

And even though the oven is beeping and the dog is barking, Louis just lies there on Nick’s chest for a bit longer, his eyes closed, taking in every second of this moment, which might be his first and last with Nick.  

He hopes for the sake of his heart, and his dick, that it isn’t.


End file.
